


Broken

by EyesOverEons



Category: Bleach
Genre: Blood, Depowered Kurosaki Ichigo, Depression, Gen, Hallucinations, Isshin trying his best, Mental Health Issues, Recovery, Self-Harm, Suicide Attempt, somewhat happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-16 09:22:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29330010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EyesOverEons/pseuds/EyesOverEons
Summary: "What's going on?" Isshin prodded gently."What do you think?" The hollow scoffed, hissing out, "If he wants to die so bad, the least he could do would be to let me do it"After losing his powers int he fight with Aizen, a depressed Ichigo makes a drastic decision, only to be stopped by his own survival instincts. (CONTENT WARNING: Attempted Suicide)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 41





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Content warning: This story includes mentions of suicide and attempted suicide.  
> Reader discretion is advised.
> 
> U.S. National Suicide Prevention Line: 1-800-273-8255

The hollow opened his eyes slowly, blinking away the dizziness as much as he could. His lungs burned as he inhaled the crisp night air, though the sensation was somewhat detached. Everything looked warped and too far away, but shapes and color were slowly making themselves known.

He was standing on a ledge. Far below, a river flowed on. His hands were wrapped around a metal railing, knuckles white from gripping so hard. The death-grip was the only thing keeping him from tumbling forward and down. The bridge behind him was silent.

He took another deep breath, trying to ignore the tightness in his chest as he tried to move. It felt like controlling a marionette, stilted and off. It would have to do. With a careful patience that was unbeknownst to the hollow before this moment, he maneuvered himself back over the railing, pausing for a moment when his feet were safely back on solid concrete.

Running a hand through his hair, he turned and began to make his way back to the riverbank. The stone crunched under his shoes and he let his eyes unfocus as his body carried him forward.

_'What the hell do you think you're doing, King?'_

-0-

Isshin nearly dropped the medical journal he was reading when he had felt his son's reiatsu spark faintly against the edge of his senses. He probably should have been surprised to feel it so far away, especially because it was past 2 am, but Isshin was more surprised that he had felt it at all.

That shouldn't have been possible with the state of Ichigo's soul. He had sacrificed all of his powers to beat Aizen. There shouldn't _be_ any reiatsu to _feel_.

But, he had felt it. Just for a second.

Isshin was out of the house before he could realize it, sprinting as fast as he could and cursing the limitations of having a physical form. Flash step would be faster, but he had the sinking feeling that his son needed something to hold on to, quite literally. He hadn't even realized the teen had slipped out of the house. Dark thoughts swirled in his mind as he headed to the location he had sensed: the river.

He found him sitting on the bank, orange hair barely illuminated by the waning moon. Isshin approached slowly, a tentative hand reaching out to grasp a still shoulder.

"Ichigo..."

"Touch me and I'll rip your arm off." A voice that wasn't entirely Ichigo's said. The teen turned and Isshin drew up short at the burning, acidic gold eyes lazily regarding him back.

"You're... not Ichigo." Isshin stated, more confusion clouding his thoughts.

The hollow didn't bother with a reply, simply shifted back to watching the mesmerizing current.

"What's going on?" Isshin prodded gently, he was pretty sure the earlier threat was empty, but he didn't really want to chance it.

The hollow scoffed, hissing out "What do you _think!?_ " He folded his arms, nails biting into the skin, rage etched in the lines of his snarling expression. "He was gonna jump off'a the bridge. Was already over the railing when I snagged control." The hollow growled, "That coward. If he wants to die so bad, the least he could do would be to let me do it."

The words hit Isshin like a slap in the face. He thought he was keeping a good eye on his son. It had been obvious that the loss had affected him greatly, but Isshin never would have guessed it was _this_ bad. He shook his head, feeling guilt and shame stab through him like ice. He should have known better! He should have been on top of this! If the hollow hadn't-

He couldn't let himself finish that sentence.

Isshin's stomach dropped and he sank down next to his hollow-son. His eyes locked on to the water, the ground, an annoying bug near his knee, _anything_ to avoid glancing at the nearby bridge. His mouth was dry when he spoke. "Ichigo... He... He came to...?" It hurt to think about and it was agony to voice, The words broke in his throat.

Tears stung the corners of his eyes as he realized how close he had gotten to losing his son.

Isshin's thoughts suddenly snapped away from that, honing in on something simpler. It was a coping mechanism and he was well aware that he would need to take time to sort through his emotions later, but the question burning on his tongue was a welcome distraction from all of that. At least for another second. "How is it possible that you are here and in control?"

"I'm not." The hollow stated plainly. He clenched his hand into a fist, it took a second for his body to respond. "I don't exist. Not anymore."

"Then how...?"

"Who knows. Guess King's survival instincts kicked in before he could let go and I'm just how that manifested. I'm just an echo of a memory; some fractured piece his mind made up to avoid breaking entirely. Maybe I'm-" the hollow flinched, "- _he's_ just dissociating to avoid the pain. Like I said, who knows? It's confusing knowing you don't exist." He dropped his fist, drawing his knees to his chest and resting his chin on top. Making himself small.

The silence stretched on. Isshin wasn't so sure, he had felt the spark of reiatsu. He supposed it would be possible for Ichigo's sub-conscious to have dragged what remained of the hollow forward to take partial control and get them out of danger- a soul was most malleable when under duress.

The hollow scowled and Isshin's heart almost stopped at how 'Ichigo' the expression was.

"Do you know why he tries so hard to save everyone?" The hollow asked quietly, "it's because he's terrified of losing more people. When I lost Mom-" A confused look passed over his expression for a split second. The hollow corrected, "When he lost his mom, it shattered him. He barely survived it. He knew, better than anyone, that he couldn't withstand that pain again. He would rather die than break like that a second time. That's why he pushes himself so hard. It's pathetic, really."

Isshin didn't bother mentioning that the stretch of river where Masaki lost her life was disturbingly close by. They all tried not to think about that year after she died; picking up the pieces and trying in vain to stack them into something resembling a life. And here he was, dangerously close to repeating the process. He would keep a better watch, he promised himself. Karin and Yuzu would not lose their older brother. Isshin drew in a shuddering breath and said something he never guessed he would have ever said to a hollow: "Thank you."

The hollow frowned, reaching a hand out to roughly grab the front of Isshin's collar and bring them face-to-face. "Shut up! I don't want your thanks, I want you to _fix him!_ All we ever wanted to do was protect him! It's _your fault_ for telling him about that final attack! I'm never gonna forgive you for that. I don't care if it was necessary to beat Aizen! This is too much! I can't take it anymore!" The hollow let the venom building in his words go, shouting by the end of his tirade. Fear flashed across his face for a moment. his next sentence was cold and emotionless, clinical. "He'll try again, you know."

Isshin knew.

All Isshin could do was take the blame, bitter remorse plucking at his frantic heart.

"Ichigo s'gonna be wakin' up soon. Think the shock's wearin' off." His speech became slightly slurred as his control wavered. "Just... take care of him, alright? For the Old Man... and me." His gold eyes slid closed and Isshin caught him as he slumped sideways.

A second later, brown eyes fluttered open, looking around wildly without really seeing anything. "What-? Where!?"

"Ichigo, it's okay. You're safe." Isshin soothed, rubbing slow circles on his back.

"S-safe? I was-" Ichigo's breath hitched, the memory of stepping over the guardrail slamming into him all at once. Words failed him as he began to hyperventilate.

Isshin simply held his shaking child, hoping- desperately hoping- his arms were strong enough to keep Ichigo from falling apart.

Ichigo's ragged breathing and not-quite-crying slowly evened out, replaced by a dull numbness. He was having a hard time keeping his eyes open, too busy being swallowed up by his own exhausted and traumatized mind. It barely registered when Isshin scooped him up into a tender, if awkward, carry and began the walk back home.

"It's not your fault, you know." Ichigo murmured. "I didn't mean that."

Isshin merely made a nondescript sound in response.

"Dad... 'm sorry."

Isshin sighed again, he wanted to be angry that Ichigo would even think about putting him in this position, but the fire just wasn't there. "Just get some rest." He said softly, but Ichigo was already asleep in his arms.

"I'll protect you, Ichigo. I promise."


	2. Chapter 2

Ichigo looked impassively at the blood on his hands. It was a sight that he had long since grown accustomed to. The scarlet liquid ran in sluggish rivulets down his forearms; each droplet tickling the skin and leaving thin, red line in its wake.

The cut was deep, Maybe not quite enough to require stitches, but certainly enough to scar. That was fine. Ichigo was no stranger to scars.

For fifteen years, his life had been— well not quite normal— but mundane enough. Then Rukia stepped into his world like a rocket and his life became blood and battle. In the thick of it, he hadn't really thought about it much. But then— BOOM— Aizen happened and Ichigo lost all his powers to take him down.

And just as quick as it had started, it was over. Everything in his life was returned to its default state. Everything, of course, except for Ichigo himself. He had glimpsed behind the curtain of reality, felt the unmatched thrill of true fights. He had never felt more alive. It was almost funny.

Stopping all of that cold turkey was unbearable. How could he go back to focusing on normal human things like school and work and stuff? He couldn't. He knew too much. Experienced too much.

A drop of blood hit the floor, shattering the silence. Ichigo looked at the splatter with dead eyes.

Pathetic.

Even his sense of pain was f—ed

His dull eyes fell to the short blade gripped firmly in his other hand. It was a pitiful little thing, a little penknife that he had found shoved in the back of a drawer. No one noticed that it disappeared. No one would question what it was being used for. It was too small and too light to be comfortably held, nothing like Zan—

— _don't think about it—_

He angrily sliced another cut in his arm.

It had started as an accident. A small slip up while attempting to take up wood carving as a hobby. The simple wound in his thumb had sent his pulse skyrocketing; the battle-ingrained instincts leaping to the forefront of this thoughts. He hadn't felt that exhilaration since—

For a short time after that his family had noticed him becoming absurdly clumsy around sharp objects, gaining a selection of small nicks and cuts that Yuzu fretted over endlessly before banning him from chopping any more vegetables. "Before you take a finger off" were her exact words.

He tried his best to ignore the glances his dad sent his way.

Eventually, that wasn't enough and he "borrowed" the pen knife from the downstairs drawer.

Ichigo wasn't clueless. Working in the clinic, he had seen his fair share of self-inflicted injuries. He knew where this path led. He just couldn't stop. It had become an addiction and each time, he needed more.

Another line appeared on his arm.

His heart fluttered a bit.

Good.

"You're really letting yourself bleed out there." A voice spoke up behind him.

Ichigo didn't startle at the new guest. He turned, greeted by the sight of his hollow sitting casually on the sink counter. The hollow wasn't real. He had started hallucinating the pale being ever since a week ago when his dad had found him by the river. Right after he was about to—

— _don't think about it don't think about it don't think about it—_

"What do you want?" Ichigo deadpanned. Indulging in conversation with his own hallucination probably wasn't the best idea, but at least it was a change of pace from his usual dark thoughts. It was more like playing with fire than sinking in despair. More fun.

Man, he was messed up.

The hollow that wasn't there smirked, "What do I want? Same thing I've always wanted."

_to protect you — to destroy you_

It didn't matter.

"You know..." The hollow drawled, "you could always hand me the knife. Really do some damage."

Ichigo frowned. He was pretty sure if he let the hollow guide his movements, he would be leaving the house in an ambulance.

But, it wasn't the hollow. Not really. Just some incredibly dark part of his mind, feeding intrusive thoughts into his consciousness. And somehow, that was even more terrifying. The darkness that had come with the hollow was easy to distinguish. Ichigo could clearly delineate it as "hollow." He could put it in a box and separate himself from it. Those insidious feelings weren't really his.

But now there were no longer any such safety nets. No scapegoats. Nowhere to hide. Ichigo was alone and this was his own darkness.

"Thought you wanted me to stay alive" Ichigo mumbled, trying to reason with his own broken psyche. The low light glinted off the red-stained blade and he resisted the urge to run his tongue across it. "You saved me on the bridge, right?" _Trauma-induced fugue-state dissociation_ Was how his dad had described it. His own self-preservation sense being expressed as his hollow taking control.

The hollow tutt-ed at him. "Now you're just misrememberin' things."

Ichigo wasn't aware enough to argue that point. "Leave me alone."

"And why would I leave you alone when you need me the most?" the hollow purred.

"I don't need you."

The blood on his arm had stopped flowing. With a snarl, Ichigo reopened the cut.

"'Course you do." Gold eyes flashed with bloodlust. "You're gonna die for real if you keep this up."

It was like ice water had been dumped on Ichigo's head. Guilt twisted his insides as his blood ran cold.

"Come now, what's up with that expression? I'm just stating a fact."

After that night by the bridge, Ichigo had never seen his dad so furious. So... broken. " _How could you even think about doing that to your sisters!?"_ Ichiog knew his dad was close to committing him to a psychiatric center. The only reason he couldn't was because there was no therapist Ichigo could talk to about what he had experienced.

"It's what you want, isn't it?" The hollow's cruel voice hissed.

Was it?

Brown eyes dropped to the blade in his now-trembling hand.

What _did_ he want?

He wanted the thrill back in his life.

He wanted the hurt inside of himself to stop.

The only way to achieve that seemed to be distraction. Even if that distraction came through fits of self-destruction.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" Ichigo's voice sounded dead. "Me dead."

The hollow slid off the counter, light footsteps making no sound as he ghosted across the cramped space. Creeping closer. Ichigo closed his eyes; he could almost imagine feeling those cold, pale hands running down his arms and tracing the wounds. When Ichigo finally looked, the blood trails were undisturbed.

Of course.

Not real.

"Do you know what's gonna happen when you die?" The hollow whispered into his ear. Ichigo didn't bother giving a response. The hollow continued anyway, "You think you'll just become a normal spirit and get sent off to Soul Society? How laughable. Those shinigami will never have you. You're already mine." Ichigo watched in the mirror as the hollow leaned his close, snaking lean arms around Ichigo's own shoulders. "And when you die, I'll help you burn this world to the ground."

Ichigo scoffed, trying to ignore the odd feeling of seeing hands on his skin without feeling anything there. "You don't even exist anymore. You're just a figment of my imagination."

The hollow hummed in thought, "Maybe. But you know your soul is forever broken, right? Your chain of fate is gone and, without being a shinigami, there'll be nothing to hold back the hollowification." He took a deep breath, burying his nose in the orange spikes in front of him. "Just imagine the destruction... the bloodshed..."

Images flashed through his mind: Karin and Yuzu staring blank-eyes at him, thick red on his clawed fingers, his dad standing in his way, a sword hovering over Ichigo's own throat, more blood than he's ever seen—

"Enough!" Defiant anger burned in Ichigo's veins. It's not a good feeling, but it's _a_ feeling. Compared to the dull nothing that filled him before, it's wonderful. Any question about his will to live vanished without a trace; burned away by a spiteful fire alight in his chest. He held that feeling tightly, not letting it go.

No.

That's not gonna happen.

Sensing the shift, The hollow backs off. Ichigo meets his eyes in the mirror's reflection. "You won't get the chance." He surprised himself with the true dedication behind his words. The knife he had been clutching clatters to the ground. "I'm not gonna _give_ you the chance." Grabbing a handful of gauze, he wrapped his wounded arm.

His friends— his dad— his sisters—

They all needed him around.

He will live.

He wasn't sure how, but he would make it through.

Brown eyes trace the hollow's face, and Ichigo is surprised to find a look of smug satisfaction. "That's what I like to hear." And with that, the hollow disappeared without fanfare.

Ichigo took a deep breath, his head felt clearer than it had in a long while. He picked up the fallen knife, inspecting the cold metal with an equally cold eye. Silently, he crept down to the kitchen, opening the drawer of miscellaneous stuff. A moment later, e made his way upstairs, leaving the knife behind.

Ichigo wouldn't be needing it again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kiind of a happy ending. I really wasn't planning on writing a second chapter, but this idea just wouldn't leave my head. 
> 
> The hollow honestly wants to help Ichigo, but will only ever do so in the most antagonistic way possible.


End file.
